
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 
Shelf ■.S.fa.k> B 6s 







Boyhood Loves 



AND- 



Early Musings 



BERTRAM LINCOLN SHAPLEIGH 






BOSTON 



Published for the Author 
1893 



\'^'^nl::\ 



"^^''--»-« 






Copyright, 1892, by Bertram Lincoln Shapleigh 



Boyhood Loves and Early Musings 



IN PREPARATION : 

Eastern Gems in a Western Crown 



Esoteric Music 



press of 

American Printing and Engraving Co. 

50 Arch Street, Boston 



TO 

IN MEMORY OF 

MANY HAPPY HOURS 



When I ivrote these lues, I said, 

"/ should never let folks knozv !'' 
But something bade me go ahead, 

And then girly teased me so, 
That I said I'd show a feiv 

If they 'd never tell a soul. 
Girls they were I showed it to, 

And, like girls, they told the ivhole. 
Some have bade me put it through ; 

Older critics zvisely chid it. 
One little maid said, '■''Please do!'' 

And it is for her I did it. 
Some said there' d be fezv to buy, — 

Said the zvorld zvould never heed it. 
Never heed it ! What cared I? 

One fair maiden said she ' d read it. 
So I steal from what is left 

Of those long, long dreams that were 
Just this one siveet little theft. 

And name it as a book for her. 



PRELUSIVE. 



I PUBLISH this book as a collection of early 
writings, composed during the period extending 
from my grammar-school days to graduation from 
the Conservatory of Music in 1891, a few stanzas 
of latter date having been added. 

With the exception of a small number, these 
verses are impromptu, having been written on copy- 
books and fly-leaves of music. 

Owing to the circumstances under which they 
were written, and the manner in which many of 
them have been preserved, there may appear among 
some of the earlier ones suggestions of borrowed 
thought. In such cases I am entirely unconscious 
of pirating. 

I have intended this volume as a collection of 
lyrics only. The few songs introduced were for 
music, to which I later set them. 

Trusting that those who are not within the 
circle of my acquaintance, and who may read 
these musings, will deal as leniently with them 
as have my friends, 

I remain, through my pages. 

The Author. 



We have an itch, an azvfid itch it is, 

To see tJie castles we have bnilt in air 

Carved upon the page beneath the builder s name. 



— SOEESKI. 



CONTKNTS. 



PART I. 

PAGE. 

Dedication 15 

■Dreams 16 

War 17 

Love and Friendship 18 

The Tear 19 

Enough for Two •. 20 

Wait 21 

Thy Little Life 22 

Just to Kiss and Let Her Go 24 

To Make Thee Smile 25 

The First Hour 26 

Maidenhood 28 

I'll Chide Thee Not 30 

I Cannot Write for Thee . 31 

Then Might We Part 32 

Must We Sever? 33 

Forever 36 

Pink 36 

Thoughts 37 

Ah, It Was There 38 



PART II. 

OF THOSE GIRLS WHO BOTHERED ME. 

Dedicated to Her 41 

Valentine for Emma 45 

She 48 

Letter to Her 50 

The Fifth 53 

Kisses 54 



PAGE. 

Coquette 55 

A Valentine 56 

Visible Speech 57 

Philopene 58 

Janette 59 

As Emma Is 62 

Impromptu . 64 

Her Bower 65 

Maud 66 

Septoroth 68 

Autograph 70 

REMINISCENCE OF BETHLEHEM, N. H. 

Clara 74 

By the Cascade 75 

The Wood-Nymph of Agassiz- T] 

Disagreeables ' 79 

Clara's Charms 80 

In the Evening 82 

From One of Them 83 

A Coincidence 86 



FART III. 

SONGS FOR MUSIC. 

Never Again 89 

The Meeting 91 

The Message 93 

Spring 94 

From Out Thine Eyes 95 

PART IV. 

The Meeting 99 

Some Sweet To-day 100 

Methinks My Heart's Gone Wrong 102 

Blue Eyes and Brown 104 

From the Valley of Sunshine 105 

12 



PAGE. 

Three Questions io6 

A Freak of Nature 107 

Nod and Tell Me So 108 

The Ideal . . . : 109 

That's for You to Tell no 

Gifts in 

While Mere Sojourning 112 

Captivity 113 

Nature's Freedom 114 

Be My Song/ 119 

Mine 123 

Good-Night 125 

One Cheer 129 

Lost! a Pearl 130 

I Cannot Tell 132 

The Simile 134 

The Horoscope 135 

Go, Lovely Rose 136 

Wanderings . 13S 

Thy Company 139 

Spring and Winter 140 

The Nativity 141 

Though Parting 142 

The Deeper Strain , 143 

The Ears of the NiGiir 145 

Trusts 146 

I Went Away 147 

Going , 148 

Memory's Music 149 

So Sad 150 

Shadows 151 

Ba(;atelle 153 

Collection of Material 154 

Thy Rhyme 158 

My Life 159 

I Cannot Spare You 160 

Sing, Little Bird ■ . . . . 162 

A Breathing of Nature 163 

She Is So Innocent 164 

13 



PAGE 

The Rosary i66 

Lines to Delight 167 

Clouds and Dreams 168 

A Lyric Would I Be 169 

Expectancy 170 

Love's Sorrow 172 

An Autumn Bud 173 

Noon 174 

Stay Not With Me 175 

My Songs are Dying 176 

Kissing Thee 177 

Memories 178 

Good-Bye 180 



PART V. 

ON THE BEACH. 

The Lute . . . , 183 

The Wooing of the Morning 184 

Nature's Secret 185 

Our Little While 186 

Fast in Thine Eyes 187 

Parting 189 

On the Beach 190 



PART VI. 

AFTERWARDS. 

Whence? 195 

A Wraithing 196 

My Heart 197 

Lonely 198 

Love's Burying-Ground 199 

The Dance of Death 200 

The Dying Day 203 

The October Day 204 

The End 206 

14 



PART I. 
DEDICATION. 



TTHIS to Carrie — should not I 
Leave to her some memory ? 
She was good, and she was fair; 
Happy hours we had together. 
She was with me everywhere 

Through the long, sweet summer weather. 



15 



DREAMS. 



Where do I go in my day-dreams long f 
Doivn the golden river of sojig; 

Down the tide of that beantifitl stream, 

Flozving throiigJi lands of a poet' s dream, 
WJiere the air is thought, and the eartJi below 
Is but the time's incessant flow ; 

Where the space around and the air above 

Is all one silent hymn of love. 



i6 



WAR. 



CPIRITS war against each other, 
Gods against the gods contest, 
Elements in fury smother 
Every attribute of rest. 

All the shades of fate do battle, 
Human souls do not all chime, 

But I never found one that '11 
War against itself as mine ! 



17 



LOVE OR FRIENDSHIP? 



"VyiLL you, Emma, simply own 

That 't is friendship which we feel, 
Simply friendship, that alone, 
Will your heart no more reveal ? 

If there 's friendship such as this, 

Then surpassing love it is, 
For love scarcely were the name 

Of so very dear a flame. 

Love or friendship, which it be. 
Both their pretty shadows cast ; 

But, in choosing, give to me 

That which will the longest last. 



THE TEAR. 



■\X7"HAT is it creepeth from my love's bright eye? 

A jewel is it, or a melted sigh, 
That, once freed from its prison, now doth creep 
Out through the portals of the soul, and sleep ? 

Each orb seems mourning 

The loss of its treasure. 
That seems born of woe. 

Yet one half born of pleasure. 

O Love, let me kiss 

Such a jewel away. 
Ere the night pick it up 

With the gems of the day. 



19 



ENOUGH FOR TWO. 



HTHERE 'S nothing half so coysome 

As little Emma is, 
And though she 's more than wholly mine, 
She's more than halfly his. 

Yet I will fret me not 

Because he seeks to woo, 
For I have found she 's got 

Of love enough for two. 

I '11 give him what he sees 

In her that 's worth pursuing, 
There '11 be enough still hid 

To pay me for the wooing. 

And though a kiss he get, 

I will not envy such, 
Indeed I will not fret. 

For I '11 o-et twice as much. 



WAIT. 



^AIT! Wait! 

I cannot wait ! 

Time hurries on its breathless race, 
Unslackened in its maddened pace, 
And leaves upon the fairest face, 
Upon the soul's most subtle grace, 

Some- tinge of pain, some circling line. 
Wait! Wait! 

'T is getting late ! 
The day will not be always mine. 

Wait! Wait! 

I cannot wait ! 
The pulse of life will press me on, 
The hours of youth will soon be gone, 
And ere the fleeting day be done 
Long victories I must have won. 
I cannot wait, — now is my day ! 
Wait! Wait! 

'T is gettmg late ! 
The hours like phantoms fly away. 



THY LITTLE LIFE. 



A S the rosebud on the vine 
Perishes in richest bloom, 
So shall this sweet life of thine 

Leave us ere it reach its noon. 
On the dark clouds of the past, 
Present suns their shadows cast, 
And the sun whose light thou art 
Brightest shines as you depart. 

Venus on thy life is rising, 
And the present is disguising 
Sorrows of a future day, 
When thy life shall wing away. 
Love me, maid, that little while 
That I see thy earthly smile ; 

And, sweet girl, when thou art gone, 
I with all the world will mourn. 



Shed thy cheerfulness around, 

Let thy voice with joy resound, 
Let thy sweetest songs pour forth 
That the world may know their worth. 

So when thou art here no more 

I may hear thee as before, 

Hear thee singing true and kind 
In the hearts you've left behind. 

Love thy little life away, 
Smiling all thy little day; 

You will never live to see 

Life's dull second infancy, 

That, alas, is left for me ! 
For thy spirit shall have flown 
Ere thy youth or beauty's gone. 



23 



JUST TO KISS AND LET HER GO. 



13LESS her little soul ! she has 

All of feeling in her heart, 
All of beauty in her face, 

In her action every art, 
In her movements every grace. 

Wit comes out with sudden start, 
Always in its needed place ; 

She comes with phantom-like delight, 

Charms and captivates the sight. 

Could I but catch thee, little maid, 
But catch thee just to hold thee tight, 

I 'd pay you for the way you 've played 
With me through all this luckless night. 

What, horrid ? Would you think me so .-' 
Why, every monstrous wish I know 
Is just to kiss and let you go ! 



24 



TO MAKE THEE SMILE. 



'T'ELL me,, my love, how to make smiles 

Fly to the morning of thy cheek, 
And I will listen to those wiles, 

Scarce breathing while thy lips shall speak. 

Tell me the art that adds the blush. 
Melting both thy dimples round; 

How to make light to dark eyes rush, 
Tell me where this art be found. 

O teach me, my love ! And as years shall fly 
Over our heads, I'll spend the while 

Reading the depths of that mystery. 
Spending my life to make thee smile ! 



25 



THE FIRST HOUR. 



'T*HAT hour was, oh, so fair an hour! 
The soul of nature seemed to move ; 
The hermitage that covered her 
Seemed as though it were astir 
With spirits that did haunt that bower, 
To mingle with our vows of love. 

It was a more than blessed night. 
It was the hour of waking love, 

It was the first of everything, 

The first time passion spread its wing ; 

'T was the first time we 'd dared the right 
To tell, what we were thinking of. 

We may be happy, yes, may be 
As full of love as we were then. 

But, oh, the past cannot come back ! 

There is some bliss that it will lack. 

Perhaps I '11 never pass with thee 
So sweet and blest an hour again. 
26 



But we will love our most erewhile, 
Nor mourn our flying blisses. 

We'll let the past go with the past, 

And love so long as love shall last ; 

Be always meeting with a smile, 
And always part with kisses. 

And when our future's turned to past, 

And we may chance review it ; 
Oh, as we look on what is gone, 
And see how sweetly time has worn, 
Be this dear wish our truly last, 
"That we could but renew it!" 



27 



MAIDENHOOD. 



TO MARRIENNE. 



"P) RE AMY, dreamy maidenhood 
Never could be understood, 
It is sweet and it is good. 

Sixteen years have floated by, 

Maiden 's taught her heart to sigh, 
Love to love gives first reply. 

Tears of womanhood first steep 
Eyes that all-night vigils keep 
O'er a maiden's love and sleep. 

Eyes first find their answering 
In the eyes of everything. 
And return their offering. 
28 



Timidness slow dies away, 

Blushes more profuse do play, 
Round her dimples listless stray. 

Kisses now have sweeter grown 
Than the unimpassioned loan 
Every schoolboy called his own. 

Maiden, dreamy little maid, 
What a problem doth invade 
All your little masquerade. 



29 



I'LL CHIDE THEE NOT. 



T 'LL chide thee not ; 

'Tis not for me 
To tell thee where thy love shall dwell. 
I '11 chide thee not, 
Yet, but for thee, 
I had not learnt to love so well. 

'T is not for me, 

(Unlucky task), 
For who could look on thee and chide.'' 
'T is not for lips 

Of mine to ask 
What heart it is thy beauty hides. 

Alas ! 't is but 

For me to live. 
And see another win thy smiles. 
Ah, but my heart 

Was weak to give 
Its little life to woman's wiles ! 



3° 



I CANNOT WRITE FOR THEE. 



T CANNOT write for thee, Emma, 

I cannot write for thee ; 
Of all that was, and all that is, 

There 's nothing left unsaid. 
I saw you with delight, Emma, 

You were delight to me ; 
You once were mine, you now are his. 

And happy times are dead. 

I used to write for thee, Emma, 

I used to write for thee ; 
But themes that once so filled my brain 

Are gone ; they come no more. 
You- used to like to hear, Emma, 

My pen's vain poesy, — 
And yet you never will again. 

Our little dream is o'er. 



31 



THEN MIGHT WE PART. 



/^H, if thy lip had ne'er met mine, 
Then might I every hope resign. 
But I am lost, 
And pay the cost 
Of tasting one sweet kiss of thine. 

If round my neck your arms ne'er hung, 
If to my breast you never clung. 

Our saddened lot 

Might be forgot 
Beneath some brightening future sun. 

If you'd not answered when I wooed, 
If we had neither understood 

The love that dwelt 

Where both had felt. 
Then might this passion be subdued. 

But oh ! to know thee, taste thy kiss. 
And then to part with all like this. 

To know it o'er 

Forever more, — 
Ah me ! Why did I meet such bliss .-' 



32 



MUST WE SEVER? 



IVTUST we sever, 
And forever, 

With a burden on each heart ? 
Must you go, forsake and grieve me, 
Must I also, darling, leave thee ? 
Why of every hope bereave me ? 
Must I go, 
Returning never ? 

O my love, I cannot part ! 

Are we breaking, 
And forsaking, ■ 

Love that burns in either breast ? 
Must we part because our roving 
Has led both our hearts to loving? 
Just because two hearts are moving, 
In affections 
Newly waking ? 

Oh, how can you say, " 'T is best ! " 

33 



A month or two 
Our love is through ; 

Now awakes the heart to grieve. 
Oh, it kills me, this dismissing ! 
It was heaven 'neath thy kissing, 
I was happy in submissing 
All my future 
Unto you, 

Maiden who could not deceive. 

I am going, 
Still bestowing 

Blessings on my truest maid. 
Ever is my prayer ascending 
From a heart that love is rending, 
For a heart whose sacred blending 
With my own 
Set it all glowing. 

Oh, thy love shall be repaid ! 



34 



Fare thee well, 
I cannot tell 

Where shall end my martyrdom ; 
I may never, never wander 
Through a fairer glen than yonder, 
Never know a maiden fonder. 
Does fate hold 
O'er me a spell 

That brings pain where'er I come? 

I see but this, 
Life's deep abyss. 

The verge to which you 've led me on ! 
And yet at parting I caress 
Thy form, and closer to me press 
A soul that I can only bless ; 
And with a long. 
Last, lingering kiss, 

Our bond is snapped, and I am gone. 



35 



PINK. 

A H ! I will think a deal on her 

Who charmed those happy hours away, 
Whose only fault was to prefer 
My folly to another's play. 

And she shall wear for me a crown, 

And last year's queen be queen of this, 

Whose only censure was a frown. 
Whose every blessing was a kiss. 



FOREVER. 



T HELD her hand clasped close in mine, 
The kiss was spent, our arms distwine ; 
She knew that she had wrung my heart, 

I knew that she was loth to sever. 
"My love," I said, "we do not part ! " 

She only answered me, " Forever ! " 



36 



THOUGHTS. 



'INHERE is no thought so passing sad 

As dreaming that you once were glad ; 
No truth so truly dear to hold 
As that which memory hath told. 

I know no fonder bitterness 

Than just to think what 's been to bless 
My life, — what joys have chased away 

Sweet melancholy yesterday. 



37 



AH, IT WAS THERE I 



A H, it was there, — 

And 't were not long ago I 
She was most fair, 

Kind nature made her so. 

There spoke she first. 

And as she ceased to speak, 
The love she nursed 

Was painted on her cheek. 



She spoke again. 

When summer days were sped ; 
She spurned me then. 

Her summer love was dead ! 



38 



PART II. 



OF THOSE GIRLS WHO BOTHERED ME.* 



'T*OOK me from my books by day, 

From my sleep at night they took me, 
While I thought it splendid play, 
Until each in turn forsook me. 
Yet I forgive them every one 
For all the mischief they have done. 
Here are verses I have written 
For the loves where I have bitten, 
And though oft I 've got the mitten, 
I remember tenderly 
Every maid who 's bothered me. 

* Clara ! 

Efnina ! 

Marrienne ! 
Janette ! 

Pauline I 



39 



'^ How beantiftil is youth I Jwiv bright it gleams 
With its illusions, aspirations, dreams ! 
Book of beginning, story without end, 
Each maid a heroine, aftd each man a friend^ 

— Longfellow. 



40 



DEDICATED TO HER. 



\l/'HO is the maid would rob my time 
To paint her in a dancing rhyme, 

Perhaps to dress 

Her fickleness 
In thoughts attempting the sublime ? 

What is there in her numbered ways 
With which she sets the heart ablaze, 

That really serves, 

What 's more, deserves, 
The profit of an author's praise ? 

She smiles most fair ; but all maids smile 
Perhaps in quite as sweet a style. 

Ah, can this be 

The reason she 
Would have me flatter her awhile ! 

41 



I have no doubt but in her face 
There lies as many a subtle grace 

As oft bedecks 

One of her sex ; 
But then should this to worth give place ? 

What can I say of her repute ? 
Is't wise to praise her being cute, 

Or to pretend, 

One common end, 
That she is good enough to suit ? 

When doubtful fascination lent 
An eye to criticism bent, 

Alas, 't were wise 

For human eyes 
To just admire and rest content ! 

What is there in a charm that 's true ? 
Alas for him who seeks to woo, 

The flattering smile. 

The coquette's wile ; 
Shall I attribute such to you ? 



42 



My pen would willingly concede 
To write whatever love decreed 

For even you 

If it would do ; 
But 't would be wrong, ah, yes indeed. 

Too oft my heart has been the seat 
Of love both troublesome and sweet, 

And every maid 

Who 's with it played 
Was one delicious little cheat ! 

You 're pretty ? Yes, I '11 call you fair ; 
You 're captivating I could swear. 

Ma foi ! I would 

Praise all I could. 
With hopes of gaining favor there, 

I 'd swear your lip the rarest hue 

That ever words of love breathed through ; 

I 'd say the kiss 

Which they dismiss 
Would win a saintship in to woo. 



43 



1 'd say the discourse of your eyes 
As softly on the spirit lies 

As doth a dream 

Of heaven seem 
When painted on nocturnal skies. 

I 'd say thy cheek, where blushes run, 
■" Had never known a guilty one ; 

There never came 

A blush of shame. 
Except for what thine eyes have done.' 

Or I would do e'en more than this, — 
I 'd paint thee as the fairest Miss 

That ever breathed, 

If I believed 
That I might share a smile or kiss ! 

Yet, should I fall unpopular, 

I '11 paint you only what you are, 

A little this, 

A little that, 
And nothing in particular. 



44 



VALENTINE FOR EMMA. 



'T'HOUGH some may say- 
That on this day 

Lovers alone do hold a claim, 
I think a friend 
Has right to send 

His wishes under friendship's name. 

Thus I take right, 
My verse indite, 

And hold high festival today. 
And over lines 
Of feeble rhymes 

Pass the jocund time away. 

Because you 're fair. 
And do not care 

What flattery I may construe,. 
Because you tease, 
Because you please, 

I '11 write a valentine for you. 

45 



To venture in, 
Your heart to win, 

Must fall the lot of one more bold. 
I pity him 
Who takes the whim. 

For he is apt to find he 's sold. 

Your looks may be 
A luxury. 

Which hungry eyes would fain devour. 
Your charms would seem 
A passing dream, 

But then dreams only last an hour. 

Full well you play 
The sylph by day. 

And masquerade as Circe by night ; 
'T is well that I 
Shall never sigh 

Because I chased a ray of light. 



46 



You came too late 
To captivate 

A heart that had been tried before ; 
I knew that eye 
And so was shy, 

I well remembered such of yore. 

But well-a-day, 
This will not pay 

My spending too much time on you, 
For, little maid, 
I am afraid 

I '11 find me in a how-de-do ! 



47 



SHE! 



VyiTH eyes and nose and mouth possessed. 

And head of fluffy hair, 
Appearing always at her best, 
Appearing always fair ; 
Smiles to kill, 
And frowns to chill. 
She sits and winks and giggles there. 

Looking askance through eyes of blue 

That twinkle in their glee, 
She throws a glance, you think for you ? 
Indeed, I think for me ! 
Yet, like the sun. 
Her smiles are won 
By all in her society. 



With all her little whims and ways, 

And by-ways too, can I decide 
A title that at once will praise, 

And censure where a fault may hide ? 
Some paragraph 
To make her laugh, 
Because it cannot be denied. 

So flighty and so steady too, 

So quiet, yet so active, 
So quick to set us in a stew, 
And then, oh, so exactive ! 
Where can I find 
A name more kind 
Than call her something quite attractive ? 



49 



LETTER TO HER. 



YyHAT is it that Emma thinks 

When she bids me write to her ? 
Well she knows (the little minx) 
That my lines will all confer 
Tales to tell how fair she is, 
Or her inconsistencies. 

Yet what lie would please her best ? 

What most gratify her pride ? 
There is nothing unconfessed, 
There is nothing to confide ; 
I might worry out the night 
Seeking for new tales to write. 

Tell her that I am in love, 
(For in such I often fall), 
Yet put in that 1 will prove 
How I love her best of all } 
Such concoctions cannot hurt, 
Emma knows that I'm a flirt. 



5° 



I cannot confide a thing 

That is worth the while to tell, 

For since I've been on her string, 

Emma knows me all too well. 

Really, little Emma knows 

All my secrets, I suppose. 

I '11 not say, as once I did, 

"That I'd paint her, oh, so fair, 
For a kiss." The gods forbid! 

Once I thought that kiss was rare. 
But I 've found that I could reap a 
Dozen kisses heap sight cheaper ! 

Nor say, "That just to see you smile 

I 'd paint you an immortal sprite," 
Indeed 'tis hardly worth the- while, 
Because in either day or night 
To see you. smile were far more cheap,- 
You smile, why even in your sleep ! 



5^ 



Summer life is all a jest, 

In the falsest hues immersed ; 
Girls are horrid at their best, 

Girls are charming at their worst. 
I forgive them, every one, 
For what I 've said or they have done. 

These belles ! Oh, how they lead us on ! 

Their eyes, their lips are saying " please,' 
And when you are completely gone, 
You venture in and get a freeze. 
Ah me, I think nobody knows 
How many times I have been froze. 



52 



THE FIFTH. 



nPHOSE pretty girls that now and then 

We pass upon the crowded street, 
Can out of every five young men 
Bring four a votive at her feet. 

The four she finds are quick to win, 
And not the least obstruction daunts, 

But while the four come walking in, 
Alas, it is the fifth she wants ! 



S3 



KISSES. 



TWrEN never meet 
Offering kisses, 
They have a way 

Of shirking such bUsses. 

Girls, when they meet, 

Never so often. 
But kisses sweet 

Must their Kps soften. 

All must agree, 

Reckoning the host. 
Plainly to see 

Who wants them most ! 



54 



COQUETTE. 



IMPROMPTU ON A FAN. 



VyiTH beauteous maid to deify 

The gay nocturnal hours, 
"The foot of time steals noiseless by 
And only treads on flowers." 

When but a word we chance receive^ 
Adorned by one sweet smile, 

Though it be given to deceive, 
We fall beneath its wile. 

And so shalt thou, O fair coquette, 
Win by thy charms new victories yet. 



55 



A VALENTINE 



'T*© some a flower or bud contains, 
In the piireness of its hue, 
In the perfume it expel, 
More than sigh or speech can feign, 
More than long kissed lips can tell. 
Say, my maid, how is 't with you ? 

Did you ever slow dissect 

Flowers sent you unawares. 
Sent you all in mystery, 
And 'neath every fold expect, 
As you open it, to see 

Cupid leap from hiding there? 



S6 



VISIBLE SPEECH. 



AT EMERSON COLLEGE. 

VOU may talk till you tire of your visible speech ; 
I '11 admit that your signs may a language 
convey, 
But I know a pair of brown eyes that will teach 
All that a diffident tongue fails to say, 
For I think the most "visible speech" 

may be seen 
In the two little twinkling brown eyes of 
Pauline ! 



57 



PHILOPENE 



"Vy HAT shall be my philopene ? 

Can the wintry hours tell ? 

Ah, not so, the mystic spell 
Visits not so chill a scene. 

But when grass and trees are green,. 
When sweet flowers scent the air. 
Summer twilight, — ah, 'tis there, 

Philomel and philopene. 



58 



JANETTE. 



A PLAGUE upon you, pretty maid, 
For all the witchery you've played, 
For all the mischief you have done, 
For all the conquests you have won. 
Forget ? 
Ah, no, I never will, 
Too much of memory you fill, 
Janette. 

From that first aight, when in the dance 
Your eye caught up my passing glance, 
I took to you, sweet sorcerer, 
And kind of liked you, as it were. 
We met ! 
And since that time I've had 
A dozen good dreams to one bad,. 
Janette. 

59 



I do not know, and yet I think 
I know the purport of a wink, 

I read the language of the eye. 
And catch the meaning of a sigh. 
And yet, 
Am I so poorly schooled. 
That in your every look I 'm fooled, 
Janette ? 

Oh, if your smile be artifice. 
And danger lurketh in your kiss. 
If every look and every word 
Spring from a heart that 's never stirred, - 
Ah, yet 
I'd think what joy there 'd be 
In playing but the fool for thee, 
Janette. 



60 



From brilliant eves of winter's sports, 
I go to spring's most fair resorts, 
And in the glen I find the first 
Small bud that dares its shell to burst 
A violet. 
Ah, here's the gem 
I'll set thee for a diadem, 
Janette. 



6i 



AS EMMA IS. 



IVr OW, Emma, I 'm not finding fault, 

Nor do I seek to chide ; 
It is my mission to exalt, 
And maiden's' faults to hide, 
I watch you scheme, 
Thus take my theme, 
And by your actions I decide 

That cheating is your chief delight. 
And conquest your ecstatic height. 

I like to see you play your part, 

In fact, I like you better for it. 
And though it wreck some wretched heart, 
I cannot do as some, "abhor it." 
Your cynic ways 
Amuse my days, 
Your haughty air, oh, I adore it ! 

I can 't conceive what I would do 
Without such company as you. 
62 



More joy I have, ay, more delight, 

In watching you than you can guess ; 
You 're always gay and always bright, — 
Such independent carelessness. 
I think a friend 
Meets better end 
Than all the lovers you profess. 
And what I am I 'd rather be 
Than all that host of jealousy. 

Around thee like a swarm of bees 

Come buzzing half a score of beaux, 
While you receive them quite at ease, 
. Just like some little fragrant rose. 
The pretty things 
You say, soon brings 
Some luckless suitor to propose, 

Although you never meant a word 
Of what you said, or he has heard. 



63 



IMPROMPTU. 



CLARA. 

nPELL me she didn't want to kiss? 
Would girly pout her pretty lips, 
Let you bite her finger tips, 

Pull your moustache, fix her eyes 
Three inches 'fore your own? No, miss, 
Who ever dares a man like this 
Can truly call it a surprise 

When it is done, — for when 'tis done, 
'Tis just what she's been planning on. 



64 



HER BOWER. 



TN this bower what a charm, 

What a flood of delight, 
In storm or in calm. 
In day or in night. 
So cheerful, so gay, and so happy the air, 
Adorned is the place by the smiles of the fair. 
Oh, never, no never have I anywhere 
Found a consort so dear, 
Or so pleasing a sight ! 

There are others who come 

When the day 's at its close, 
And here in this home 
Find delicious repose. 
Luxuriously lazy, with one maid to tease, 
We say what we wish to, and do as we please. 
Just lazing it, doing what. 
Nobody knows, — 
Oh, the joy and content of such moments as these ! 



.65 



MAUD. 



'T'HE music starts, the dancers glide 
Upon the floor from every side. 

The lights flare up, my heart beats high, 

A partner to my arms doth fly. 
Of that wild dance I was the lord. 
Because I danced that dance with Maud. 

We played at hearts ; yet where 's the hurt ? 
She likes as well as I to flirt. 
I just as lief to spend the hour 
Feigning myself within her power. 
In fact I 'd play at any fraud. 
Since I had danced that waltz with Maud. 

The stars laughed till they all grew dim, 
And gayly laughed the cherubim. 

The moon looked on and smiling heard 
Things the sun would term absurd. 
But follies are by night adored, 
And this nio-ht I had danced with Maud. 



66 



The darkness pardons many a thing 
That dayhght spends in censuring. 

Ah ! who would in the broad daylight, 
Unblushing, kiss the kiss of night? 
I kissed her, but that was not odd. 
Since I had danced the waltz with Maud. 

With many a girl 't is in the eyes 

That all the seat of conquest lies. 

But many more may capture us 

By spells that are more ruinous. 

The queen of conquests would applaud 
The mischief of that waltz with Maud. 

But oh ! when comes again the sun, 
All these nocturnal fancies run, 

And visions of that night will seem 
But as a dream, and as a dream 
Will pass, yet memory shall record 
That I had danced that waltz with Maud. 



67 



SEPTOROTH. 



TO MARRIENNE. 



AS Septoroth, the gentle queen of night, 

All radiantly prescribes her course on high, 
We call her loving goddess of the sky ; 
Yet" all her life is but a borrowed light. 
And she herself the coldest deity. 

As doth the towering iceberg catch the last 

Bright streaming rays the sun sends over land, 

And seems reflecting them through all its height, 

Till its cold heart seems burning up with light ; 
All beautiful with life and fire it stands, 

Until the sun is gone, and then 't is past. 



68 



So is it that thou seem'st, all distant, cold, 
Until some borrowed light sets thee aglow ; 

And then 't is as the light that burns the ice, 
Reflecting on it, glancing through it, though 

Not melting it ; as that orb we behold 

Lit by the sun, yet its own soul so chilled, 

But shines, when shone on, with a tender light. 
Cool Septoroth, chaste goddess of the night, 

All glowing with a light that has no heat, 
A moonbeam stolen from a radiant sun. 



69 



AUTOGRAPH. 



"DELLE of the West ! thou hast been sung 

By bards upon thy western shore, 
No doubt thy minstrels hold among 

Their storied praises volumes more 
Than I may yet have seen in thee, 
Than you have cared to show to me, 

Than I would think it quite polite 

Or just propriety to write. 

What did your latest poet sing ? 

What was his latest ecstasy ? 
Did he compare thee to the spring, 

Or to some flower's purity ? 
What did he claim thy fairest grace — 
Some line of feature of the face ? 

Or did he" come to the conclusion 

All was just one sweet confusion? 



70 



Flattery's faults ? Ah, let them stay, 
While virtue covers them with care ; 

For nature leaves us but this way 
To win the favors of the fair. 

We have to lead those whom we seek 

To think we mean not what we speak ; 
They seldom deign to grant their love 
To those they 're sure and certain of. 

But 't is not flattery to say 

That you, like other maids, have power 
To chase our prosy fogs away, 

And add a charm to studious hours. 
Some say 't is foolish in th' extreme 
To mingle girls with learning's theme ; 

And yet the way I find it here 

That girls and books alike are dear. 



71 



I 've sworn devotion to the fair 

(A fault most fools are taken to), 
For 't is a luxury to share 

An hour of mine with such as you ; 
To take some lonesome hour of mine, 
And mix it with an hour of thine ; 

For thus combined the time would fly, 

And leave immortal memory. 

To one of beauty, one of mind. 

One almost perfect, — here 's the rub, — 
The only fault that I can find 

You're not a maiden of the "Hub." 
Yet still we '11 keep you while we can, 
And may be some poor Boston man 

Will fall in love with you who are 

Just on from California ! 



72 



REMINISCENCK 



BETHLEHEM, NEW HAMPSHIRE, 



July 22, 1891. 



That one sweet day, so bright, so long. 

None was fairer, 
I have here embalmed in song 

Just for Clara. 



73 



CLARA 



VyHAT is it that Clara thinks, 

What is it she plans or schemes, 
When she turns her head and winks ? 
I don't know; but much it seems 
That her very whole intent 
Is some mischief to invent ! 

What is it, do you suppose, 

In her that finds its expression, 
When she snivels up her nose 
At some cynical aggression ? 

Much it seems in look like that,. 
Clara means you "tit for tat!" 



74 



BY THE CASCADE. 



a YSJHERE the cascade's merry stream 
Woke a charm that much did seem 
Like some fairy woodland dream." 

She held her hand, a dainty cup, 
To catch the water from the brook, 
And as the crystal draught I took 

I saw her sweet face looking up, 
All lighting o'er with romping glee, 
Those soft brown eyes looked up to me 
From out the stream below. 

And as I watched those eyes below, 
I thought. Oh, that it might be so ! 
I look again, ah, can it be .-' 
My shadow now is kissing thee 

Down in the stream below. 



75 



The scene was gone. 

The brook flew on 
With many a laughing fit and start ; 

And yet I know 

That down below 
That kiss lies on the river's heart ! 



76 



THE WOOD-NYMPH OF AGASSIZ. 



CO bashful when I spied her, 

So pretty and ashamed, 
With roses drooping nigh her. 
By columbine enchained. 

So blushing as I passed her, 

So seeking for retreat. 
The poets would have classed her 

As something obsolete. 

She caught her white gown round her. 

And started, pretty fay, 
But cruel briars caught her, 

And tangled up her way. 



77 



The boughs I quickly parted, 
And by her side I knelt, 

Kissing the fairest fairy 

That e'er in woodland dwelt. 

All day we roamed together 
Through that enchanted dell. 

But whom she was. 

Oh, never, no, never, will I tell ! 



78 



DISAGREEABLES. 



T F there was n't a hob in the road, 

We 'd forget we were taking a drive ; 
If there was n't a bug in the wood, 
We 'd hardly know we were alive ; 
So if life were of nothing but her, 
I 'd ne'er know how perfect she were. 

If day was n't darkened by night, 

We 'd never know daytime was light ; 
If a word never hurt me sometime, 

I 'd never know how sweet were thine ; 
If hate never fell to my name, 
I 'd never know love when it came. 



79 



CLARA'S CHARMS. 



nrO what do Clara's charms conduce, 
To tempt, to fool us, or amuse ? 
If 't is to tempt, oh, have a care. 
Who knows what mischief lurketh there ? 
Brown eyes may fool ; beware ! beware ! 

Her damask cheek is dimpled in. 
Another dimple dents her chin ; 

If you look well, you may descry. 

Just behind the either eye, 

Where two small marks of mischief lie. 

And then her lip, oh, what a lip ! 
Heaven's rarest piece of workmanship ; 

Smiles and sighs by them begot. 

Promises all soon forgot. 

Tempting is their only plot. 



Is she sincere ? Oh ! if she were, 
There 's not a fault to find with her ; 
And every charm which she display 
Is tact for charming time away, 
And too delicious to betray. 

If she will give deceit a truce, 
I '11 hold her charms were made for use,. 
That beauty never undertook 
To paint deception in her look, 
And he who says it did, mistook. 



8i 



IN THE EVENING. 



CO very light a thing was she, 

About me whirring in the dance, 
It was more as a dream would be, 
A sort of dizzy waking trance. 

More like a sylph she seemed to be. 
Who 'd taken form to dance with me. 

Who could have danced the waltz with her, 

And thought him not unduly blest ? 
When she such favor doth bestow. 

All sadness needs must leave the breast. 
And every thought that breathes of woe 
Must perish 'neath her tripping toe. 

Her step had even music in it ; 

Her breath seemed breathings of a song ; 
Her kiss I fain would stoop to win it, 
Yet dared not, as we whirled along ; 
Her very movement seemed to be 
A sort of maddened melody. 



82 



FROM ONE OF THEM. 



A ND how has Bert survived the year, 

And has the summer left him whole? 
For much I feared, and much I fear 
He 's sold his heart, or lost his soul. 

Has auctioned off his fickle heart 
For just an ounce of beauty rare. 

Or let his soul in bliss depart 
On smiles and favors of the fair. 

Our rambles down by the cascade. 

Or over Agassiz by night; 
Yes, our whole summer masquerade, 

We held it was Platonic, quite. 



83 



You fanned me in the dance, and then 
Took me to promenade outside ; 

Were you so jealous of the men 
That came to ask me for a glide ? 

I did not think until too late 
The fate of my rejected swain, 

That he would get so desperate 
As go and fall in love again. 

Perhaps, like me, she played a part 
Of neither artifice nor guile ; 

But found it quite a simple art 

To craze him with a gracious smile. 



And very likely when he 's gone 
So far that he begins to rhyme, 

She '11 feign surprise at what is done, 
And say she thought 't was summer time 

Indeed, I did not mean to hurt. 
In all the summer's dizzy whirl ; 

But then, you '11 understand me, Bert, 
I only was your summer girl! 

But now what makes me awful mad, 
And almost turns my little head, 

Is thinking of the chance I had, 
And seeing her get in ahead ! 



85 



A COINCIDENCE. 



AND so we met as lovers may, 

On a sultry summer's day, 
Just to charm the time away ; 

Just a little time to flirt, 

Surely it could be no hurt. 
Girls are false, and love is play. 

But true or false, eyes blue or gray, 

Blue have their charm, and dark ones may, 

It matters not ; the happy play 

Of Circes, sylphs, and summer folk 

Help to fill life's little joke. 
And summer laughs her self away ! 



86 



PART III. 



SONGS FOR MUSIC. 



'^ Soft words with nothing in them make a song.'' 

— Waller. 



87 



The soul would speak but could not, 

So music spoke instead, 
And all the place was filling 

With that we tJiought was dead. 
And the soul zvas in a spell. 
Seeing things it could not tell. 



NEVER AGAIN. 



'YyHEN through the gilded halls, 

With thee I glide, 
I am content to be 

Here by thy side. 
Wildly my fancies stray 

Led by thine own, 
W'hile I am waltzed away. 

To lands unknown. 
Madly the strains arise, 

Madly we whirl, 
Joy is in thine eyes, 

My lovely girl ; 
But in that ecstacy lurketh a pain. 
For I may dance with thee 

Never again I 



But while this hour shall last 

Here will I stay, 
And let thy presence cast 

Each doubt away. 
But when the music 's done, 

And lights burn low. 
Ah ! then has set my sun 

And I must go. 
Yet shall my dreams rehearse 

Every joy. 
And shall my memory find 

Sweetest employ. 
Dreaming the ecstacy that it retain, 
Though I may dance with thee 

Never a^ain ! 



90 



THE MEETING. 



TN woody glens where brooks run through, 
In mossy dells where violets grew, 
Where first the birds found voice to sing 
Their beauteous lays to budding spring, 

There wandered I, while o' er the land 

The first warm breeze of June was fanned, 
And happily the hours wore 
As I roamed hill and valley o'er. 

When in the wildest ecstacy 

I hear a voice borne up to me, 

That sang a plaintive melody 
I 'd heard in dreams before. 



91 



Down through the ferns my steps pressed on, 
To find the singer of that song. 

Oh maiden wonderously fair ! 

My heart beat wild to see her there. 
Her lute went murmuring through the vale ; 
Her voice arose like nightingale; 

She sat upon a mossy mound, 

The flowers went nodding all around ; 
Her eyes met mine, — 'twas love's first glance. 
Her very soul gave utterance. 
I clasped her to me in a trance ! 

I knew my love had come. 



92 



THE MESSAGE. 



TF warbling birds that sail the ether blue, 
Would only listen to my tuneful thought, 
I 'd send each warbling one, dear love, to you, 

To sing those plaintive melodies I taught. 
Had every breeze that floats so idly by 

But ears that stoop and listen to my prayer, 
I 'd send on every gust a tearful sigh. 

And charge each with a message to my fair. 

If in the ocean's roaring I could send 

The tumult that forever haunts this breast, 
From every billow as the crest ascend 

Would burst those tones that never speak of rest. 
Oh ! let my soul fly out to thee, and tell 

Its longing and its loving at thy feet. 
And let thy heart-throbs beat its parting knell, 

And as I die I '11 call that dying sweet. 
June 14, 1886. 



93 



SPRING. 

T TP in the grassy fields 

Where winds blow over, 
Up where the fresh spring yields 

Rich beds of clover, 
Through the long days of June, 
Singing my merry tune, 
Chasing away their noon, 

I am a rover. 

Up in the mellow fields 
Where stars light over. 

There by the dusk concealed, 
Soft boughs above her, 

My arms about her thrown. 

She who is all my own, 

Out 'neath the heavens alone, 
I am her lover. 



July 2, 1886. 



94 



FROM OUT THINE EYES. 



"pROM out thine eyes my songs are flowing 

In a liquid stream of spirit, 
I alone that music knowing, 

Mine the only ears that hear it ; 

I alone it is who knows 

The soul from which that music flows. 

Off thy lips my poems falling, 

Lip to lip the sweet verse flies. 
And my heart is calling, calling ; 
Loving, trusting, thine replies. 
Lkiss your lips, and every time 
I feel the perfect, flowing rhyme. 



95 



From thy dear, dear heart, thine only, 

Flows my spirit of content ; 
I am never, never lonely 

When to thee my thoughts are sent. 
None know what I feel and see, 
For thy love is all for me. 



96 



PART IV 



nPHEN came a soul, 

Whose sacred flame 
Consumed my whole ; 
It was the same 
That whispered in a dream to me, 
" Oh, wait till I shall come to thee ! 



97 



There are those times when we are brought about 
To face ourselves ; to look Jipon our past ; 
Measure our futtire, by a light that shines 
From those dim stars revolving in ourselves, 
As touching the fneridian of soul 
They wake its memories, and teach the man 
To know the depth of selfhood and to love. 

Deep in himself he apprehends that part 
That in the wom.an finds its conscious being ; 
The veil of Isis is not raised, — the heart 
Will not yet reacJi to knowing without seeing. 
Yet deep in man the woman sweetly dwells. 
Though he must find her in the world around ; 
The voice of prescience speaks of long, vague quests 
Into soul substance, where some past had left 
Impress of its diviner self, its long lost part ; 
That doubting, long, unmodulated to7ie 
That now seeks form and color, life, and breath. 

{From '^ Mara and Vishmi.'") By the Author. 



THE MEETING. 



CHOULD I like you, and you like me, 
What would the consequences be? 
If I should love, and you should love. 
And both in common rapture move ; 
If I should woo, 
And so should you. 
Ah ! what would happen to us two ? 
In meeting, liking, loving thus. 
Oh, say, would it be well for us ? 



99 



SOME SWEET TO-DAY. 



T WILL not light the lamps until I 've thought 

What was the sweetest thing 

In all the day ; 
I will not seek to speed the 
Lingering ray 
Until my anxious eye somewhere has caught 
A word, a smile, or something that has passed 
In my small sphere. O Memory, thou hast 
Some sweet to-day ! 

Now fancy travels out and conjures up 
A long and brilliant train ; 

It all floats by, 
Joy and sadness go with 
Laugh and sigh, 
And dregs of pain lie deep in pleasure's cup. 
But now I see two tender hazel eyes 
Turn on me, — lips that smile, — Ah, 
Herein lies 

My sweet to-day ! 



A perfume breathes from pictures of the mind, 
And in our fancy memory carves her lore, 

Our dearest treasures in the air we find ; 

I knew my happiness tonight was for 

Some sweet to-day ! 



METHINKS MY HEART'S GONE WRONG. 



"NJOT that the flowers of springtime 

Lie in the woodlands dead ; 
Not for the dream of some fair cHme, 
Where all is fairyland below 

And all is heaven above ; 
Not that my wayward fancies flow 
Into some realm of love, 
Mourning the beauties sped. 

'T is not for these that my day seems long — 
Methinks, methinks my heart 's gone wrong I 

Not for the beauty that has been, 

Decking a summer throne; 
Not that the saddest days begin — 
September's melancholy days 
And drear October hours ; 
Yet in my heart a hope delays. 
And burns the cloud that lowers 
Until its mists have flown. 

Yet why this hope .^ Yet why this song.? 
Methinks, methinks my heart 's gone wrong! 



Not that an eye of tender blue 

Looked, then looked no more ; 
Not that an eye its language knew, 

And answered back its tale of love. 

What use to tell the tale ? 
The soul that spoke will distant rove, 
And while all time prevail 
Its meeting shall be o'er. 

Those eyes awoke that tender song, 

And well methinks my heart 's gone wrong! 



103 



BLUE EYES AND BROWN. 



'T'HOUGH blue eyes may the truest be, 
And win themselves the fairest toast, 
In spite of all their cruelty 

I love the deep brown eye the most. 

It holds a sort of hidden light, 

Of which we never see the whole — 

A half of day, a half of night, 
A half of fun, a half of soul. 



She said all sorts of pretty things, 

I thought she was exquisite ; 
They were but hints on pretty wings. 
And now my sorrow is it 
That ever I allowed my wit 
To hear her speak, believing it. 



104 



FROM THE VALLEY OF SUNSHINE. 



TO MAY. 



'T'HE golden rays 

Of the setting sun 

Had stolen into her auburn hair; 
Through its flaxen maze, 

When day is done, 

The beams of light still linger there. 
That fairy mist floats round about 
Some sunny rays not yet combed out. 

Like pleasant thoughts that lie confined 

In a mirthful corner of the mind. 



105 



THREE QUESTIONS. 



npHREE things a maiden named me, — 
A promise, tear, and kiss. 
And she asked me which was dearer, 
Which my heart said was sincerer ? 
And I answered then the miss. 
Young Perfection. 

What 's a promise with a maiden 
Who can smile away a breach ? 
What 's a kiss when lips are cold 
And a youthful love 's grown old ? 
But a tear upon the cheek 
Shows affection. 



1 06 



A FREAK OF NATURE. 



CHE turns my every purpose round, 

The wrong to right, the right to wrong, 
And in her actions I liave found 

A grace that turns my prose to song. 
When I am warm she makes me cool ; 

When I am up she takes me down, 
I play tragedian or fool ; 

She turns the whole world upside down. 

So fair a freak of nature she. 

The wand of joy is in her hand. 
And all the world is light and free, 

Or dark as Hattie may command. 
No matter where, no matter whose 

May be the bitter lot of care. 
She '11 play at havoc with the blues, 

And wreck the logic of despair. 



107 



NOD AND TELL ME SO. 



T THINK I know what you would say, 

Indeed you almost say it ; 
In doubt I watch you day by day, 

But, oh, so well you play it ! 
I wonder if you really mean 

What I could almost swear I know, 
Why, then I fear, my little queen, 

You'll have to nod and tell me so. 

If I 'm to play my little part, 

And follow you where you may lead, 
I think you ought, by simple art. 

Just drop the evidence I need. 
So fair, my maid, if I have found 

How now the wind may chance to blow, 
Why please don 't noise it all around. 

But simply nod and tell me so. 



1 08 



THE IDEAL 



CHE is a song of nature fair, 

Such as a summer twilight sings ; 

She sheds upon the fragrant air 

The calm and peace that evening brings ; 
She 's like a whisper, but so faint, 
'T is more like some low sigh's complaint. 

She is a burst of harmony 

From mossy woodland's soft retreat ; 
She is of nature's psalmody, 

So pure, so holy, good, and sweet ; 
The flowers have their obeisance paid, 
She is so very fair a maid. 



Dear girl, we can't anticipate, 

The world turns over in a day, 
So we can only trust, and wait 
For time to teach us what it may. 
We two can only now fulfill 
The working of "love's own sweet will." 



109 



THAT'S FOR YOU TO TELL. 



j^O I like you? Do I love you? 

Or what is it I feel for you, 
That I never can reprove you, 
But must silently adore you, 

Is it love or magic spell ? 

That 's what I want you to tell. 

Why is it I dream at night 

Of a maid whose looks divine 
Shower down a flood of light, 
That I know alone is thine ; 

Why such dream with me doth dwell ? 
That 's what I want you to tell. 

Why am I now here with you. 
Dreading lest I must depart ; 
Seeking in that eye of blue 
For the secret of thy heart ; 

Why is this, my beauteous belle ? 
That 's what I want you to tell. 



GIFTS. 

T ONELY am I now no longer, 

For I feel surrounding me 
Such a sweet content, that, darling, 
It is like thy company. 

Sad no more, my heart beats gayly, 
And all life is young once more ; 

Now the earth brings to me daily 
Sweets I never knew before. 

■Gods their kindest gifts bestowing 
O'er my star's ascendency, 

And I 'm doubly blessed in knowing 
That one maiden cares for me. 



m 



WHILE HERE SOJOURNING. 



T ITTLE maid, while here sojourning, 

Such a deal of bliss I know, 
That I ever am returning 
Just because I love you so ! 

That to stay from you an hour 
Makes your lover's heart complain, 

For you wield some occult power 
That demands him back again. 

So forgive me if forever 

Round about thy bower I stray. 
Bonds there are too sweet to sever, 

And I cannot keep away. 



CAPTIVITY. 



J 'M bound to thee by a thousand kisses 

You have given me, 
And held by bonds so sweet as this is 

Love captivity. 

I have no way thy faith to prove, 

I claim thee by no art, 
But with all my wondrous love 

I bind thee to my heart. 



"3 



NATURE'S FREEDOM. 



AA/'HEN fair September guides us back 
To winter's habits, custom's traits, 
Still the bloom on woodland track 
Bids the rustic longer wait. 

And when leaves begin to turn 

Ere summer loves have bade adieu, 

Just down among the brush and fern 

Once more to roam the meadows through, 

I wandered with her to a grove 

Within the woodland's deep morass, 

'Twas just the place for summer loves 
Their listless hours of smiles to pass. 



114 



On some low branch of hemlock bent 
To earth, and twined about its own, 

I sit me, while on moss ascent 

My queen assumes her rightful throne. 

Round about six sentinel trees 

Inclose us from the sun's warm rays. 

Warding off each saucier breeze 
Ere upon her cheek it plays. 

And when comes a ruder gust 
To seek us in our fair seclusion. 

Angrily their branches thrust 
All about in wild confusion. 



"5 



Those straying rays of light that burst 
Through the forest's tender gloom, 

With her smiles were all immersed, 
Lighting up her youthful bloom. 

Eyes laugh, and features all set free 
From custom's cold, tyrannic laws. 

Burst into sweetest harmony 

With nature, and each sternness thaws. 

She laughs ! She plays as though a child ; 

She leaps, and runs through woody glen. 
She's happy, careless, free, and wild. 

Away from all the world and men. 



ii6 



My arms may catch her in her course, 
A soft embrace my clasp may feign, 

And with a maiden's gentle force, 
She turns to clasp me back again ! 

All the fair sonnets I might breathe 
In praise of my most beauteous maid. 

She 'd crown with an immortal wreath 
By murmuring o'er what I had said. 

So we for one short hour were left 
Away from clash of worldly din, 

And custom never knew the theft 
Of freedom that we joyed in. 



"7 



We were not here two beings bound 
By any form the times could wear; 

We were two souls who there had found 
The endless freedom of the air. 

The birds fly o'er, the brooks still run, 
As did they on that autumn day. 

But our short, happy dream was done, 
And in the tender evemng gray 

We wandered down the woody track ; 

Silent walked we, side by side. 
For in that dusky walking back 

The autumn died. 

Sept. 20, 18! 



118 



BE MY SONG. 



gE my song that little while; 

Let me rhyme for thee that space, 
Ere the fading of a smile 

Leaves a wrinkle on thy face. 

And when deeper creases run 

Where thy dimples now find place, 

I will say thy soul hath won 
All the beauties of thy face. 

So be that song whose flowing strain 
Sweetens with the sadder thought, 

For songs are sweeter that contain 
A tinge of soul from sorrow caught. 



119 



And when wrinkles fret thy face, 
Think it not, my dear, as harm. 

For I know some inborn grace 

Will supply the vanquished charm. 

Songs are short ; their cadences 
Fall too soon, and die away ; 

And the longest poem is 
But the dreaming of a day. 

But when song and poetry die, 
Then the soul its echo gives, 

And although the time be by, 
Still the memory of it lives. 

The music of the soul once stirred 
Vibrates all the life along ; 

When the voice of song is heard 
It can only live in song. 



And its deeper notes have set 

The heart in tune, that it may hear 

A higher harmony than yet 
Has fallen on the idle ear. 

Our sweetest songs are those which seem 
To seek the shadows of our art, 

And sweetest is that treasured dream 
Deepest hidden in the heart. 

How often does the poem sob 

Beneath the music's lighter strain ! 

We listen to the music's throb, 
Yet do not know the hidden pain. 

The grander chords sweep on and on, 
The poem lieth still beneath, 

And when the music shall have flown. 
We '11 live upon the poem's breath. 



Be my song, and teach the poem 

Of my life to smoother flow, 
So that I may live that rhythm 

Even after you may go. 

And though it lose its harmony, 
Still the soul goes singing on ; 

The rhyme will have its melody 
Even though the song be gone. 

Such a song as thou couldst be, 

If thy loving only could 
Wake the under harmony, 

The soul of deeper womanhood. 

Songs are dreams, whose wandering strains 
Wind life's idler hours along ; 

Such are never sung in vain. 

Oh, be my love, and be my song ! 



MINE! 



^WAKE, dull heart, 

Dream on no more ! 
The future dawns and makes remembrance glad. 
Dark sorrows all depart, 
Sad days are o'er ; 
Awake, my heart, and be no longer sad ! 

Brood not again upon the hours gone. 

The past is not what hope should build upon. 

Let not my heart another day repine ; 

I know her mine ! The heavens answer, 

Mine! 



123 



Rejoice, rejoice, 'tis love 
That is my lot ! 
Nature rejoiceth with me. In her flowers 
I find the fates approve. 

Why should they not ! 
There 's not a hope for earth that is not ours. 

I give her all I have or hope to own, 
And she with trembling heart accepts the loan. 
My soul is mad with joy while I consign 
My life to her who lets me call her 

Mine! 



124 



GOOD-NIGHT 



QOOD-NIGHT, my love. 

Would that this hour 
Had length of years ! 
Had I the pow 'r 
To turn the daytime into night, 
Ah ! it would be my last delight 
To rob my life of every day, 
And pass the time in night away, 
With nothing else to say or do 
Than kiss and murmur love to you. 



125 



One sweet good-night, 

One kiss so soft, 
Those tones the moon 
Has heard so oft. 
If I of minutes could make years, 
Could I but stop the rolling spheres. 
Yon moon I 'd have forever shine, 
To light such beauty as is thine. 

Our love be blest in one long night, 
And mount its circles of delight. 



126 



Good-night, my love. 

You must away, 
Yet linger here 
I can but stay. 
Scenes are not all so fair, my love. 
As this we are partaking of. 

The moon's pale light that bathes us now 

Will pale before the blush of morn, 
And as the first streaks lace its brow 
The magic of the night is gone. 



127 



Has this fair night 
No more for us, 
And shall I let 

You leave me thus ? 
Yes, go ! The hour that we should stay 
Has drifted into yesterday ; 
It is the hour that nature sets 

Her stars to kiss thee into dreams. 
And yet, thy lover here forgets. 
And kisses thee himself, it seems. 



128 



ONE CHEER. 



TF you can wake my heart with joy, 

And cheer my earthly hour with song, 
I care not how the world employ 
Its artifice to wreak me wrong. 

For one sweet smiling friend can cheer 
A heart that 's by the world forsaken, 

Just one sympathetic tear 

Will all its former hopes awaken. 

Then smile for me while I may live. 
And sing, while cares like visions go ; 

And when I 'm gone let pity give 
One tear for him who loved you so ! 



129 



LOST! A PEARL. 



TO FLORENCE. 



T N the early hours of youth, 

When the heart knew naught but truth, 
Much I loved a sunny lass. 
Years went by, and soon she stood 
In the realm of womanhood. 

Then I 'd sit, and watch her pass 
By my window every morn. 

But the love of that fair girl 
With her maidenhood had gone, — 
I had lost my little pearl. 



130 



Spring is rolling into June, 
Lovers set their hearts in tune, 

Summer almost has begun. 
Now comes Flossy on the scene 
Radiant as any queen, 
Glorious as any sun ! 

Flossy, Flossy, lovely girl, 

Why should now my heart despond 
For the losing of a pearl 

When I 've found a diamond ! 



131 



I CANNOT TELL 



"DY banks of streams 

Where nymphs are wooed, 
I 've had day-dreams 

With gods of the wood. 
I have deciphered the song of its flow, 

And in that dell 
Strange things I 've seen ; yet would you know 

I cannot tell. 

Music that breaketh 

The soul's deep slumber, 
When it forsaketh 

Life's dreary member. 
Why do I linger to hear this sweet strain 

Long as I may ? 
Go ask the soul ; I cannot explain, 

I cannot say. 



132 



Fair faces charmed me, 

Smiles of those loved 
Oft have disarmed me, 

Deeply have moved. 
Yet when you ask me why this is so, 

Why they dispel 
Powers to bind me, I do not know, 

I cannot tell. 



133 



THE SIMILE 



T CANNOT tell thee what thou art, 
But merely say what 's most like thee. 
I cannot name the subtle grace 

That stamps thee more than other maids. 
Simply can I let my heart 

Feel what ardent eyes can see, 

And say that twilight owns a shade 
And morning in her skies doth place 
Something that 's like to you, some little hint 
Of nature that holds something of you in 't, 

That speaks of you, yet is not you alone — 
A harmony whose minor thought contains 
A breath of thee deep in its undertone. 
I cannot say thou 'rt like a melody. 
But that sweet music is most like to thee. 



134 



THE HOROSCOPE. 



WENUS circled at thy birth 

In the Lion, while at mine 
Leo had embraced the earth ; 

And the moon did newly shine 
From thy Scorpion, where my sun 
Had its ten-day orbit run. 

Doubt not, then, if I do love 
When such signs in heaven do move. 
See, our destiny doth lie 
Carved immortal in the sky ! 



135 



GO, LOVELY ROSE. 



f^O, pretty flower, and seek her breast; 

There let thy beauteous life depart. 
Thou wilt find a blissful rest 
Reclining on so fond a heart. 

You will hear her every sigh, 

And feel her every ecstacy. 
And when her heart is throbbing high, 

Can count how oft it beats for me. 

She will lay thee on her cheek, 
On her lip thou wilt recline ; 

And each fragrant word she speak 
Shall mingle its perfume with thine. 



136 



Though thy petals wither, wither, 

You will never know you die ; 
And her hand shall bear you thither, 

Gently, sweetly, lay you by. 

And, perchance, thy tomb shall be 
In some spicy jar inclosed. 

Or there may be room for thee 
In the book she loves the most. 

But should you be cast aside, 

Should her loving chance forget, — 

Oh, I '11 wish 't were I who died, 
And that thou wert living yet ! 



^37 



WANDERINGS. 



"VyHAT can gentle fancy do, 
What can timid poesy show, 
Of the wealth your heart discloses ? 
Nature whispers unto you 
All the arts I do not know. 

A soft, light cloud around thee closes, 
And you float away from me. 
Seeing things I cannot see. 
Going where I cannot go. 
Tell me, or I shall not know, 
Of thy silent wanderings out. 
Of thy spirit 's circling 'bout ; 

Are thy wanderings thus and so .'' 



THY COMPANY. 



CLEEP and eating are forgot 

In thy dear company. 
The hours fly, 

I heed them not 
When they are filled with thee. 

Ah, well, I think me fortunate, 
Such fortune comes to few ; 

There never was 

A kinder fate 
Than led me unto you. 



139 



SPRING AND WINTER. 



'HP IS springtime that is happy, 

'T is winter that is cold, 

And all the world is sunshine 

Till 
it 

grows 
old. 

'T is maidens that are sweet, 

'T is woman that 's a scold ; 

They 're angels, every one, 

Till 

they 

grow 

old. 

But maidenhood or woman, 

The year both new and old, 

'T is summer, always summer. 

Till 

love 

grows 

cold. 



140 



THE NATIVITY. 



QAZE on my nativity, and find written there 
All that I may feel for you, 

My fair. 
Watch our benefics commune, 
Watch the heavens their forms assume ; 
They in types of gold declare 
What I feel for you, my fair. 
Look and read the mighty scroll, 

My fair. 



141 



THOUGH PARTING. 



IM'O matter what may us betide, 

No matter who may tempt the heart, 
And when by chance I leave thy side, 
Ah, who, indeed, can say we part ! 

When loving eyes no more converse. 
And lips remain untouched by love. 

Though every fate should prove adverse, 
Our souls would still en rapport move. 

And were I oceans from thy side. 

Still would I hear thy voice through space. 

My soul would come, thy love its guide. 
And love, our phantoms would embrace. 



142 



THE DEEPER STRAIN. 



TO FLORENCE. 



TF I could catch that sweeter strain 

That underlies all poesy, 
My heart would sing it o'er again, 

And shape it to a song of thee. 

If I could catch the darling dreams 
That come and go, that come and go, 

Of love alone I 'd take my themes. 
And you the only one to know. 

Alas, 't is vain ! I cannot reach 
■ The strains to form that grander lay ; 
It cannot teach all it would teach, 
It cannot say all it would say. 



143 



I 'd rhyme the summer to its flowers, 
The birds unto the songs they sing,. 

The dearest joys to fleetest hours, 
Still rhyming thee to everything. 

I 'd blend the clouds and wind together,. 

Silver clouds and ether blue, — 
But I pause, deciding whether 

I should blend myself with you ! 

Yet within its winding maze. 
Hidden somewhere it would be. 

Some little word, some little phrase, 
Some rhyme, connecting you and me. 



144 



THE EARS OF THE NIGHT. 



HTHE night may have a thousand eyes. 

It has a thousand ears as well ; 
And what is whispered 'neath its skies 
The spirits of the night will tell. 

So when beneath the stars you stray, 
But breathe my name upon the air, 

And I shall hear soft voices say 
That you await my answer there. 

And wind sprites shall my love bespeak 
That shall the pearl-tipped clouds outfiy, 

I know they '11 linger on thy cheek, 
And sweetly give you my reply. 



145 



TRUSTS. 

'T'HERE'S not an hour in the day 
But what, my love, I am untrue, 
I while my summer hours away 
In breaking all my vows to you. 

I vowed my kisses none should taste 
Until thy lips unsealed the bond ; 

Yet I have failed to keep them chaste. 
And other lips are growing fond. 

I even think that I have loved, 
Forgetting all I owe to you ; 

But has my little maiden proved 
That she is any less untrue ? 



146 



I WENT AWAY. 



T went away, and left you there 
That long, sweet summer day ; 
Thy love too pure, the place too fair 

For me to longer stay. 
I left you as the moon arose, 

And went my way alone ; 
No closing fragrance of the rose 
Scented the air at day's repose, 

The briar rose was gone. 

And yet where'er on earth we rove, 
Though we may never meet again, 

The holy power of our love 

Has forged a band that will remain. 

From each to each the thought shall flow. 

And both shall feel, and both shall know. 



147 



GOING 



T^O you ask why I with sorrow 
Watch the fleeting light depart, 

Know you not that on the morrow, 
Thou, the keeper of my heart, 
Will be going, going, going ? 
Surely you must now be knowing. 

Every romance has its end. 

Some must perish all too soon ; 
And the wretched heart will rend 
In the rapture of its noon. 
We must part at early morn. 
Dreaming, romance, summer gone. 



MEMORY'S MUSIC. 



"PVER round about me, 

Round about and after, 
In the day and in the night, 
Comes thy sweet laughter. 

And thy name I 'm breathing. 
Fancying you hear me. 

For I 'm always feeling 

Thou art somewhere near "me. 

Ever floating o'er me, 

Sounding sweet and long. 

Quieting and blessing. 
Comes thy voice of song. 

Ever thrilling through me 

Wheresoe'er I rove, 
Springing out of memory 

Come thy words of love. 



149 



so SAD. 



\/yHY are the stars so far away, 

Deep in the heaven's vacant blue? 
Why are the clouds so cold and gray, 
And why the moon so chill a hue ? 
All the glory once they had 
Seems lost, I am so sad, so sad. 

Why seem the frogs in glistening pool 

Croaking a dirge ? Why seems the scent 
Of flowers borne on breezes cool 

The fragrance of some love's lament ? 
Oh ! why is all so dreary clad ? 
It is because I 'm sad, so sad. 



150 



SHADOWS. 



(^UT of the mystic realms of shadow land 
There leaned upon the bosom of the night 
A form, a being draped in robes of light, 
A spirit without substance, though it lay 
Bathed by the moonlight in distinct display 
Of all its beauty, an immortal sight, 
A vision which I could not understand. 

My soul crept forth a shadow on the air, 

Lured by that being that possessed some skill 
To draw me to it with its occult will. 

My spirit sought to break its bond and move. 
The vision smiled, — I saw it was my love ! 
Her radiance hovered over me, and still 
She spoke not, came not to me standing there. 



151 



But as my yearning sight gazed on that face, 
It drew existence from me, and I sprung 
Upward to grasp her, — on her neck I hung ! 
Yet did not, for the shadow form dispersed. 
Was it my heated fancies had conversed ? 
Ah ! do not shadows kiss when hearts are wrung. 
And may not phantoms of the past embrace ? 



152 



BAGATELLE 



TUST a sort of way to tell her 

What she is supposed to know, 
Which, although it sha'n't compel her. 

Shows and yet it does n't show. 
What she is supposed to do, 

Now that she 's about to do it ; 
All the things that Flossy knew. 

Which I tell because she knew it ! 



153 



COLLECTION OF MATERIAL 



T ET me hold thy confidence, 

Tell me all your little things — 
Whims and fancies, thus and so. 
Pretty things that take their wings 
And fly away before we know. 

Yet just mix a little sense 

With the tales that I shall hear. 
Weave some little secret joy 

As a thread that binds the lines ; 
It shall be my sweet employ 
To make out your fair designs. 

Let me hold thy confidence ; 
Tell me every darling dream 

Resting on that heart of thine. 
And to me, my dear, 't will seem 

Just as though that dream were mine. 



154 



Write me when, and where, and whence,- 
Write me every thing you do, 

Everything your mind can steal, 
Everything that pleases you, — 
All your little heart may feel. 

Do not think for aught to write, 
Let not pen nor paper wait-; 

Take yourself, dear, for a text. 
And the page will have its freight, 

With enough left for the next. 

Write me, darling, thus and so. 
Thus and so I shall expect it ; 

Twenty questions in a row, 
Rosy red or dialectic. 



155 



This word here and that word there, 

This thought, that thought, all in jumble, 

Helter skelter, everywhere, — 

Take your chances, I shall tumble. 

Dreamy prose or prose that thunders — 
Any style — your thought will reach me. 

It shall tell me, teach me wonders. 
Wonders shall it tell me, teach me. 

And oh, should a line of poetry 
Somehow, somewhere fall into it, 

I shall swallow it adroitly, 

Smile, and say, " How could she do it ? " 



156 



But some time just something tell me 
That, when I shall read it through. 

It shall then and there compel me 
Breathe a little prayer for you. 

Something that shall have behind it 
Gentle whisp'rings of the heart, 

I shall surely, surely find it, 

And 't will speak thy better part. 

This or that, whatever chances, 

Fail the wise or miss the pun, 
Write the mind's extravagances, 
Necromances, 

Wild romances ; 
I '11 forgive all ignorances, 
Dissonances, 

Strange advances. 
And in those dear utterances 
I will say thy task is done I 



IS7 



THY RHYME, 



'T'ELL me thy heart and I will rhyme 

The secrets of thy maidenhood ; 
Tell me thy every thought and mine 
Shall jingle with it to the tune 
Of fancy that shall so festoon 
Its beauty, that, oh, very soon. 
The world will say it can't allude 
To mortal 'tis so fair and good. 



158 



MY LIFE 



IV/rY life's a song, 

An endless strain 
Of major joy 

And minor pain. 

My soul 's a poem 
In metric time, 

So smooth it flows. 
Each day a line. 

My world 's thy love 

Until I die; 
Like to a god. 

So blest am I. 



159 



CANNOT SPARE YOU. 



nrAKE a flower from nature's bloom, 
And as you do, 
There 's another flower will press 
In the little wilderness 
And fill up the vacant room. 

Steal a tint from sunset skies, 
And another sunbeam flies 
Quickly to supply its loss. 

But, sweet love. 
Sadness steals my heart across ; 
I cannot spare you. 



1 60 



Ask the heart one throb to spare, 
And its Hfe is through ; 
Bid it leave one beat behind, 
And its whole life is resigned, 
Darkness and oblivion there. 

Take a star from out the sky, 
And some world in dark will lie, 
Having lost its sungod's smile. 

So, my love, 't would be if I, 
Lost thee in this little while ; 
I cannot spare you. 



i6i 



SING, LITTLE BIRD. 



CING, little bird, and as you sing 
I will live again in spring, 
Flowers shall about me bloom. 
And the night shall turn to noon ; 
I shall hear the woodlands ring 
To thy little merry tune ; 

I will through the meadows roam, 
Spring again shall be my home. 

Sing, my love, and years shall chase 
Back their hurried, breathless race; 
Spring will come and all grow young, 
When thy song, my love, is sung. 
It shall care and pain erase, — 
Joy falling from thy tongue 

Wakes the echoes long grown dumb ; 
Sing,- my love, and spring will come. 



162 



A BREATHING OF NATURE. 



J WOULD not ask a flower 

If it no story told ; 
I would not wait the hour 

For nature to unfold 
The bud with all its beauty fraught. 

All kissed about with dew, 
But for the beauty it had caught 

From nature and from you. 

I would not watch the flower close 

Beneath the evening's kiss, 
And fold its petals to repose, 

But for the thought in this, — 
_For as the moon its soft light throws 

Upon it tenderly. 
For as the stars may kiss the rose, 

So I am kissing thee ! 



163 



SHE IS SO INNOCENT. 



CHE is so innocent, 

So good, so fair ! 
The sunbeams seek her soul, and hide them there. 
Her Kps, just Hke the roses, blushing red, 
In modesty for pretty things they 've said. 
Sweet laughter lurketh 

In her golden hair ; 
She is so innocent. 

The river ripples kissed her feet, 
The sunbeams kissed her hair ; 

The sunbeam smiled, and then was gone. 
The river stopped, then hurried on, — 
I kissed her lips ; they were so sweet 
I was disposed to linger there ! 



164 



She is so innocent, 

So good, so fair ! 
That, when she 's gone from us, 
The summer air 
Will breathe of her, and birds will fly 
And voice sweet songs for her on high. 
She is so innocent ! 



165 



THE ROSARY. 



/^H! let our happy moments be 
The beads upon my rosary 
That you have sweetly strung for me. 

And in each bead that I shall name 
Will be some thought of you, the same 
That made me more because it came, 

I need not ask the heavenly way, 
For love will teach me how to pray, 
And you will lead me day by day. 



1 66 



LINES TO DELIGHT. 



J CHASED away the little night 
Playing with the imp, delight ; 
Early came the envious dawn, 
And the little child was gone. 

But as I sat with her that night, 
Talking of all those pretty things 
That to our idle mind had strayed, 
I found that little imp, delight, 
Had slyly sprouted cupid wings. 
And oh, the mischief it has made ! 



167 



CLOUDS AND DREAMS. 



'T'HE clouds are sailing over the meadows 

As dreams are floating o'er my life ; 
Yet the clouds will never touch the meadows, — 
My dreams and my life will never meet. 

But the soft, sweet rain will bless the fields, 
And beautiful flowers will spring and bloom 

For thee, my love. 
And so my dreams will shed their light. 
And bring forth beautiful flowers of art 

For thee, my love. 



( 



1 68 



A LYRIC WOULD I BE. 



T 'D rather be a lyric poem, hung 

Upon my lady's lip at eventide — 
A song- that her dear voice had somewhere sung — 
Than all the greater forms of art beside. 

I 'd rather be a little, well-tuned rhyme. 

That dingles in her head from morn till night. 

Than all the epics, pleasing her a time, 
Read and laid aside, forgotten quite. 

I 'd rather be a rose that breathes to her 
The memories of wh,at is gone or dead ; 

For I would feel her gentle pulses stir 

And thrill for me ere my short life had sped. 

I 'd rather be a memory, hid away 

Within the deepest corner of her heart. 

Than all the whims and fancies of her day 
That win her favor, please, and then depart. 



169 



EXPECTANCY. 



T WOKE at early morning, to watch, 

My love, for thee ; 
The flowers woke before me to 

Deck our bowery. 
All day I walked among them, and yet 

You did not come ; 
The flowers were disappointed, and 

Sadness fell on some. 
The noonday sun was burning hot. 

The hours slowly stealing on. 
Each flower said, "She cometh not," 
And noon and morning both were gone. 



170 



The evening was approaching, and 

Through the wilderness 
Of roses passed a cooling wind, that 

Left its soft caress 
Upon the drooping flowers that had 

Felt my lonesomeness. 
They folded up their petals, and 

Closed their loving eyes ; 
But when I went among them 

Beneath the evening skies, 
I found each flower gemmed with tears. 

And then, my love, I knew 
The flowers wept for you, my dear, 
The flowers wept for you ! 



171 



LOVE'S SORROW. 



TOY and Love had spent in play 

All the fragrant summer day. 
Love grew tired, so she lay 

Down among the flowers to rest. 

Joy, when he saw she slept. 
Lonesome, to her side he crept, 
And his little curly head 

Drooped upon her sunny breast. 

Love was startled from her sleep, 
Waking, saw that Joy wept. 

"Pretty Joy," she softly said, 
"When your little eyes shall weep, 
Thou shalt be Love's sorrow ! " 



172 



AN AUTUMN BUD. 



nPHOUGH summer's gone, 
And autumn's quiet day- 
Comes stealing on, 

And stealing friends away ; 

Though flowers that bloomed 
In summer's land of dreams, 

Were sadly doomed 

To wither by their streams ; 

Yet is there one 

Sweet flower, September's own,. 
So fair has none 

In all the summer blown ? 

Its deep blue eye 

Bespeaks the saddened day, 
And in its sigh 

The season wings away. 



173 



NOON. 



A ND is our love so soon to end, 

Ere summer has attained its noon ? 
It found its birth where roses blend 

Their perfumes with the smiles of June. 
When spring first woke, ah ! that sweet time, 
When every word you spoke was mine. 

Then nature gave festivity 

In honor of your love for me. 

But now that Clara's love is o'er. 

And I am soon to be forgot, 
The flowers of springtime bloom no more, 

And autumn flowers, ah ! they are not 
One half so sweet as those of spring. 
The season dies, the cherub sings. 

And one more year of life is gone, 

Still time and life and love speeds on. 



174 



STAY NOT WITH ME 



HTHE day is lover of the night, 

Yet each is absent from the other ; 
Shadows linger near the light, 
As thou ling'rest near thy lover. 

See, the stars lean out of heaven. 

Kissing now the lake's cool cheek, 
Silently conversing, even 
As we would in kisses speak. 

I follow thee in happy dreams, 
And linger near unceasingly. 

Yet doth my higher wisdom deem 

It best thou shouldst not be with me. 

Away from me, and find resort 

'Mid nature's gay festivity, 
Where butterflies and dragons sport, — 

Away from sorrow and from me ! 



175 



MY SONGS ARE DYING. 



j\/TY songs, my songs are dying 

Beneath love's alchemy ; 
The latest song I sung has now 

Brought back its grief to me. 
I sent it gayly on its way, 

Rich in its harmony ; 
With all the sorrows of the day 

It now comes back to me. 

And yet to me my little song 

Has wealth none else may see ; 
And oh ! I have been waiting long 

For it to come to me. 
And though its little joy be gone. 

And lost its fair design, 
The spirit of it still lives on, — 

The echo still is mine ! 



176 



KISSING THEE. 



TO HATTIE. 



'T*HE river as it hurries on 

Ne'er kisses twice the selfsame flower ; 
The night is taken from the morn 
Even in its meeting hour. 

Yet sunbeams kiss thee all the day, 
The stars kiss soft and tenderly ; 

I only wait the time to say 

I have a thousand saved for thee. 

And so why should my darling chide, 
And seek to thwart my fair design, 

For all the sweets I am denied, 

"Love's own sweet will" has named as mine. 

Nature seems to stand aside. 

And wait the chance of kissing thee ; 
And the blush of morn may hide 

Morning's hidden ecstacy 

When it kisses thee, my love. 



177 



MEMORIES. 



•"\A^HEN rambling o'er the keys some eve — 
The cold, white, pearly keys — 
I '11 think of thee ; 
And old strains, like some evening breeze 
Singing through the apple trees. 
Will tinge the air, and leave 

The perfume of some memory. 

Some notes will longer cleave the air, 
Some harmonies grow faint ; 
And in the pause 
Perchance some whisper fall, to share 
The waiting answer hidden there, — 
A solace to its plaint. 

An echo of a time that was. 



178 



But as the harmonies rush on 
In dreamy rhapsodies, 
Perchance there be 
Some dissonance break forth anon, 
And all love's summer dream is gone ; 
And from the cold, white keys 
Farewells, my love, to thee ! 



179 



GOOD-BYE. 



QOOD-BYE, good-bye, 
And with a sigh 
Love's tributes I return to you ; 
Good-bye, good-bye. 

Love, hope, and I 
Reluctant bid our last adieu ! 



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PART V. 



ON THE BEACH. 



So from one to one we go, 
One day gone, one new begun, 
Till the scejies of life be done. 



Thus through time s eternal flow 
On from life to life we go. 



i8i 



" Silent mi hour together, 

Under gray skies, by waters blue ; 
Our hearts were ftdl of windy weather, — 
Clouds and blown stars and broken lights. 

" So once with fiery breath and flying, 

Your winged heart touched mine and went, 
And the swift spirits kissed, and sighing. 
Sundered and smiled and were content^ 

— Swinburne. 



182 



THE LUTE. 



"n)0 not jar the golden chords 
When the sweet lute sings, 
It is seldom time affords 
Us such heavenly things. 

Do not seek to stop the strain 

As it soars on high,. 
It may never sound again 

Here for you and I. 

Let the hand of ages lie 
Trembling on the strings. 

It will speak deep mystery 
In the song it brings. 

Eternity has spun the cords 
Upon that golden lute ; 

But jar it not, once broken, it 
Forever more is mute. 



183 



THE WOOING OF THE MORNING. 



'T'HE morning kissed the night full on the brow, 
And gently said, 

"Shall I love thee?" 
Crimson grew the cheek of night ; 

Its brilliant eyes dimmed up with tears, 
And hid before the glance of morn 

All trembling through her starry spheres. 
"Shall I love thee?" 
The night was melting into day, 
Its crimson flush had died away, — 
The spirit of the night had fled. 
Morning whispered low, and said, 
"Now I love thee." 



NATURE'S SECRET. 



fZO among the birds of song, 

Listen to the rivulet 
As it plays its course along ; 

Kneel low down among the grass, 
Listening to the moments pass, 
Find the purple violet. 
Nature has had long for thee 
Secrets on her bosom laid ; 
Nature has a prophesy, — 

You must find it, little maid. 

Go upon thy darling quest, 
- Seek out nature's mystery ; 
Nature holds within her breast 
Knowledge of my love for thee. 



i8s 



OUR LITTLE WHILE. 



T ITTLE love, we watch the days 

Come and go, come and go. 
In a weird and and jolly maze 

In they come, and out they flow. 
Yet we will not count them, sweet, 
For although the days be fleet. 
And our cares and joys meet. 

We will laugh them all good-bye ; 
All our hours of care beguile 

With bright hopes for you and me, 
As we share this " little while." 

We 've not time to count the hills 

That we mount while traveling on, 
Now my heart with music fills, — 

Strains that will some day be gone. 
We come not this way again, 
So let memory retain 
The brightest airs, whose soft refrain 

Shall soothe our tired by-and-by. 
Light every morning with a smile ; 

Let evening say that you and I 
Are happy in our "little while." 



FAST IN THINE EYES. 



"pTAST in thine eyes mine own are fixed,. 

In softest language now converse. 
Hopes and passions intermixed 
Are the language of the soul 
Sounding through the universe, — 
A language born of love's control, 
A song that will forever roll 
Over the vast and endless sea 
Of life, of love's eternity. 

Close to my own, thy throbbing breast 

Beats out -the rhythm of that song. 
While kisses spring from every rest. 
Closer, still closer come to me. 
Thou fair of fair, thou blest of blest. 
Making our song one harmony. 
Whose cadence is my love for thee, 

Whose measures are not life's brief years,. 
But aeons of the rolling spheres. 



187 



Hich in the fragrance they expel, 

Sweet with the words that through them pass, 
Dear for the hope that they foretell, 
Thy lips so temptingly repose 
That I would wreck my soul, alas ! 
If I but saw my ruin rose 
From kissing such dear lips as those ! 
And all the stars of night might see 
The kiss of all eternity. 



PARTING. 



"T^EAREST maid, although we sever,. 

Know that, wheresoe'er I be, 
Still forever and forever 

I shall breathe a prayer for thee. 

How rich and fragrant is the air 

That moves about those roses there !' 

Thus it is those thoughts shall be 
That feed upon thy memory. 



189 



ON THE BEACH. 



*T*HE flowers were withered where we together 
Had danced to the music's throbbing strain ; 
The music had ceased, and the guests were 
leaving. 
Hours are short, and dreams are vain. 
Over the stretch of summer weather ; 

The stars of night and day-dreams remain 
Deep in the heart that is lonely, grieving, 
For that which we know can return to us never ! 

Silently we two found together 

The long, dim beach, where the cold, chill tide 

Beat up under the moon's pale crescent ; 
Long, wild thoughts on the night wind ride, — 
Long, long sighs through the windy weather. 
The breaking heart in vain will hide 

Its thoughts of the past, its pains of the present ; 
The future will come, but the past will come never ! 



190 



We two alone on the beach to-night, — 
Hushj for the summer is dead ! 

The old grief comes with a weight tremendous, 
And holds in its talons my aching head. 
I strain each nerve of my great endeavor 

To crush out the flame that the season has fed ; 
I call to heaven that it may not end thus ! 
Will heaven answer me never, never ? 

Our arms are locking us close together, 

Our breath is one, while this long, last night 
Is covering us over, is closing around us, — 
We two alone in our soul's last flight ; 
The last kiss now, and the last forever, 
My soul leaps up to the Infinite ; 

The Infinite hears, and his spirit has found us. 
And God blesses those who will meet again never. 



191 



The moon hung low, and we two together 
Silently standing. The dark sea stole 

Up to our feet, and back to its line ; 
The bear had fallen below the pole. 
Her eyes were wet when we paused to sever ; 
I wonder if over her beautiful soul 

There had come the thought that had stirred 
in mine ? 
'T is God that speaks when our fate says never. 

We wandered back from the dim beach, where 
The wind and the waters were murmuring low. 

We left behind us the summer land ; 
And the waves they feared lest morning should 
know 
That she and I had been parting there, 
And pressing on in their gentle flow, 
Kissed out her footprints from the sand. 



192 



PART VI. 

AFTERWARDS 



" Thott. come St as the memoiy of a dream, 
Which now is sad because it hath been sweets 

— Shelley. 



193 



What once is sweet gj'ozvs sad, — 

All life is so ; 
All songs of pain once had 

A silver flow ; 
The once light heart is living noiu to p7''ove 
That sorrow is the kiss Time gives to Love. 



Yet sorrow is not painfnl solitude, 
But man s own entrance into man, where none 

May follow, nor imwelcomed guest intritde ; 

Tivze ceases ; all the deeds that tim,e hath done- 
Sorrows and Joys, pains and sweets — a7'e one. 



194 



WHENCE? 



pTROM whence proceeds my care, 
Where hides my joy, where? 
My heart was full of dearest life, 

My days with pleasures bubbled o'er; 
But now my soul is filled with strife. 
And love will wear its smiles no more. 

My tears may be the dearest friends 

That I have ever known ; 
Those hours when sadness o'er me crept 

May be the sweetest I shall own ; 
And when these eyes of mine have wept, 

There 's something in me must have grown ! 



195 



A WRAITHING. 



T HAVE a hope, a memory, a fear — 

'T is all as one. 
And hovering over all an atmosphere 
Of dreams 
That seems 
A thin web spun 
Of beauties gone. 
First heart-throbs ; the first lips that came 
And whispered love's dear name. 

I know some thought of thine has wandered near, 
And touched the latent flame. 

The eyes of many years now softly gleam. 
And smiles of well-known lips far, far from here, 
And memory takes her subject from a dream. 



MY HEART. 



jX/TY heart has gone to the rear of life, 

With the sick and the wounded has fallen back ; 
Foregone to lead in the reckless strife, 
Left the fray and the trodden track 
Of thousands 
Who faint by the way unknown, — 
Of thousands 
Who die for the unattained. 
My heart is alone, 
Its peace is gained. 
It is guilty of many a reckless deed, 

And, oh, how vain did its warfare prove ! 
But now it forever has ceased to lead 

My days and my nights to the battle of love. 



197 



LONELY. 



'T'HE day has been so long, 
The night so dreary, 
While I am waiting for a voice from space. 
I cannot sing a song 

I am so weary, 
And even poetry loses all its grace. 

Oh ! come to me, my love, I want you only 
I 'm tired, dear, and, oh, so very lonely ! 

Oh ! come to me, my love, 
I am so lonely. 
I want to look on thee. 
And hear thee speak, 
Feeling thy warm, fresh spirit flow to me ; 
To feel thy lip. 
To linger cheek to cheek. 
And lift me up to where I ne'er can be 
Unless you come to me, my love, 

You only. 
And fill the hours where I am, oh, so lonely I 



LOVE'S BURYING-GROUND. 



T^HERE are spirits that walk in love's 
buryiiig-ground 
At night when the heart is still ; 
They speak no word, and they make no sound, 
But the heart with dread will fill, 

And the past comes back to us when 
We ask if we ever will 

Love as we loved them then ? 

In the past they lie, but they walk apace. 

And wander to and fro. 
A smile lights many a well-known face 
That comes from the long ago ; 

And many a heart that 's bled. 
And they will not lie below. 
For love cannot bury its dead. 



199 



THE DANCE OF DEATH. 



nPHERE was something in the air that told 

The dead were going to rise that night ; 
Time seemed grim, and time seemed bold 
With fiendish-like delight. 

The lights reflect on the waxen floor, 
An echo startles through the hall, — 

Some early step that 's come before 
The waking, that is all. 



The same lights shine, the same strains flow, 
The same crushed flowers upon the floor ; 

It . does not seem but a year ago,- — 
A little year, no more. 

That night the hours had voice to sing ; 

Swift apprehensions stirred the air. — 
O Love, thou wert the only thing 

That time and change should spare ! 



A year ago ! how that night took wings ! 

And life, with her maddest pulses set, 
Knew all, felt all, owned everything 

That death now bids forget. 

That was the dance of life, when she 

Rounded my life with the touch of souls ; 

I to her, she to me, — 

But who could see the shoals ? 

Ah ! who could see for both our sakes, 
Who could look beyond, beneath ? 

He who the dance of life partakes 
Must dance the dance of death. 

To-night I see her come to me ; 

I go to her, — the great pulse stirred, 
I cannot stay, — it seems to be 

The wildest music I ever heard. 



Along through the night our footsteps fly, 
I am wrapped in a cloud of perfumed breath ; 

She and I, she and I, 

Whirl in the dance of death. 



The night is done ;, back to its tomb 

Death leads the dead, the beautiful past ; 

A hush comes down through the empty gloom, 
Like the robe that enshrouds the last. 

The last till that day at the end of all. 

When the past shall rise, and be past no more ; 

When the soul will wake, and the soul will call 
To that which went before. 

And the soul of the past will be waiting there 

In our far future to welcome us. 
She and I, can we not forbear, 

When time awaiteth thus ? 



THE AFTERGLOW. 



The winds are hushed, 

And the dying day- 
Is shrouded in evening's 

Sable gray. 
Life lies wrapt in its memories, 
Shut in itself all silently. 
Thinking upon the day that is gone 

As the quick look on the dead, 
And say good-bye ; 
For the soul and the present are always one,, 

And the past has forever fled. 
But the inner eye 
Looks to the promise of the soul. 
And sees not blights, but a glorious whole, 

In the running back of memory. 
As in the afterglow of dreams 

The lights of other dreams reflect 
A rainbow arching o'er the stream 

Of life, of love, that is to be 

Our pathway through eternity. 



203 



AN OCTOBER DAY. 



TO EDRIS. 



T ET roses speak, 

Let music own 
The secrets that lie hid beneath 
Her tinted cheek 

And in the tone 
That floats upon a scented breath. 

Oh! let the sad 

October day 
Paint on a page of memory 
A cheek that had 

A sweet display 
Of melancholy mystery. 



204 



Oh ! let the gusts 

That drive the leaves 
Portray the chilling cold that came — 
A cold that crushed, 

A cold that cleaved 
The heart, and froze its tender flame. 

The leaves that fall, 

And rustle by, 
Now seem like tears that memory shed ; 
The air is all 

One gentle sigh 
For hope that 's gone, and love that 's dead. 



205 



THE END. 



n^ 0-DAY is not to-morrow, 

Yesterday 's not to-day, 
But to-morrow will come to us sometime, 
While yesterday drifts away. 

Yesterday and to-morrow 

Are two that will never meet ; 

In the latter there may be sorrow, — 
The other we know was sweet. 

And yet must we welcome to-morrow 
When yesterday's life be done ; 

They '11 all be yesterdays sometime, 
And their joys and sorrows be one. 



206 



